This treatise would be essentially defective in the
estimation both of its author and its readers, if after so much has been
advanced about instrumentality, nothing were to be said about the
agency which is necessary to render it effectual for the accomplishment
of its object. In all Divine operations, whether in the world of nature or
of grace, God employs a chain of dependent means for the working out of his
purposes and plans—but though dependent, they are appropriate. In
acknowledging, as we must do, the adaptation of these means to the
production of the intended result, we do homage to God's wisdom; while in
confessing their dependence for efficiency upon his blessing, we do no less
homage to his power and grace. There is no analogy which I can borrow from
the world of nature that can satisfactorily illustrate the operation of
Divine grace on the human mind. I know very well that second causes in the
material universe depend for their efficiency upon Divine influence—but it
is an influence of a totally different kind, and exerted altogether in a
different matter from that of which I now write; and we are very little
aided in our perceptions of the nature of the Spirit's operation upon the
human mind, by anything we observe in the world of vegetable or animal life.
There are two aspects in which man is to be viewed in
relation to the means employed for his salvation--he is to be considered as
both a rational and a sinful creature, (or as a rational creature whose
reason is under the dominion of sin), and consequently, whatever method be
adopted for his salvation, he must be dealt with in both these views of his
condition. His fallen state as a sinner has not bereft him of his reason,
will, and responsibility. But his reason and will alone will never lift him
out of his condition as a fallen sinner. He cannot be dealt with otherwise
than as he is, and he must be treated as a rational creature, and not as a
brute or a block. His intellect must be appealed to by argument, and his
heart by motives. And it will be seen that in the means of grace, and
especially in preaching, there is provision for this.
There is truth to be presented to the intellect,
truth which represents the whole state of the case between God and the
sinner, the nature and obligations of the moral law, the exceeding
sinfulness of sin, the weight of the tremendous penalty of the violated
precept; the wonderful love of God in the provision he has made for the
salvation of the sinner, with the eternal results of misery or bliss which
follow upon faith and unbelief respectively. In this, there is something in
its nature adapted to engage the attention, and to interest the heart, of
the sinner. It is not only the truth—but just the truth that suits his
condition.
In addition to this, there is, in preaching, the
adaptation of the manner, as well as the matter, to his
circumstances, the tendency of the living voice, pastoral solicitude, and
earnest elocution, to engage the intellect and impress the heart. It will
follow of course that earnestness is a part of this well-adapted system of
means, and the more earnest a man is, the more likely, so far as means go,
is he to do good. For if it is the matter which God blesses to change
the heart, it is also the manner which he blesses to fix the
attention preparatory to this change—there is as obvious an adaptation in
the latter as in the former. How is it, that there is greater efficiency
usually attendant upon hearing the word, than there is upon reading it? Just
because there is a greater adaptation to fix attention and to impress the
heart; and by the same rule I argue there is more adaptation to do this in
one man's manner than in that of another.
Hence we see that those preachers are most successful who
we might expect to be so, independently of the Divine power. This does not
disprove the necessity of a Divine influence—but only shows what order of
instrumentality it is that the Divine Spirit usually employs, and
consequently what instrumentality we should select. As God does not usually
bless ignorance, dullness, obscurity, or feebleness--we should avoid them;
for to look for great results from them, is to expect not only what God has
not promised—but what he very rarely bestows. God deals with us as rational
creatures, by presenting to us, and requiring us to understand and believe
that truth, the reception of which into the heart changes the whole
character and conduct.
But there is in the heart of man, not only an
indifference to Divine truth—but an opposition to Divine truth. "The carnal
mind is enmity against God, and is not subject to the law of God, neither
indeed can be." The heart so blinds the judgment that "the natural man
discerns not the things of the Spirit of God, neither indeed can he know
them, because they are spiritually discerned." Therefore, however the
attention may be gained by the manner of a preacher, (and gained it must be
in order to conversion,) yet the heart is still opposed to the truth; and
hence the need of the Spirit's influence to subdue this resistance of the
heart to the truth itself. Thus the truth and the Spirit concur in
conversion—it is the sinner being brought to know and love the objects
presented in the truth, therefore the truth must be presented to the
intellect, in order that it may be known and loved. But it never will be so
loved, however theoretically understood, until the Spirit takes away the
disrelish for it, which is in the heart. Without the truth, there is nothing
to engage the attention and employ the intellect of man as a rational being;
without the Spirit there is no right disposition of the heart, when the
truth is so presented.
If a certain quality in an object, is the ground of
dislike to it, an increased knowledge of the object and of this quality,
cannot in the nature of things subdue our hostility; the taste must be
changed before the object can be relished. It is precisely thus with the
sinner and the truth; he dislikes the gospel for its holiness, and no
increase of light will vanquish his enmity to it. Consequently, however
earnest the preacher's manner, and however scriptural his matter, no saving
result will follow--unless the Spirit gives his blessing. Yet preaching is
as necessary as if all were done by it alone, without the Spirit, because it
is by this means that the Spirit usually works in the conversion of sinners.
And since it is by appropriate means that he accomplishes his purposes,
there is nothing in this doctrine to discourage exertion.
There are means which carry in themselves the rational
hope, if not the promise, of success. God will not accept the lame
sacrifice, nor send down the signs of his approval on service which involves
no real effort of heart or mind in his cause. The influence of the Holy
Spirit comes not as a bounty upon indolence—but as a stimulus to exertion.
His office is not to give the human faculties a license to slumber—but to
supply man with motives to watchfulness. His descent upon the church is not
as the torpor which betokens disease—but as an element of activity
bespeaking moral and spiritual health.
God is unquestionably sovereign in the dispensation of
this blessed influence. He gives it in such measures, on such occasions, and
to such instruments, as it seems good to him. He who directs the course of
the clouds, and causes them to drop their treasures where and when he
pleases, makes the dew of his grace, and the rain of his Spirit, to fall
according to the counsel of his own will. There is no such necessary
connection between the exhibition of the truth and the conversion of the
soul, as there is between the application of fire and the combustion of
inflammable matter. The apostle says, "Who then is Paul, and who is
Apollos—but ministers by whom you believed, even as God gave to every man. I
have planted, Apollos watered—but God gave the increase. So then, neither is
he who plants anything, neither he who waters. But God who gives the
increase." One would think it impossible to mistake the meaning of this
language, or to doubt whether special Divine influence be necessary for the
conversion of the soul, or whether the communication of it be a prerogative
of Divine sovereignty.
Still there is every ground to expect the influence we
need. It is our privilege to live under the dispensation of the Spirit, as
well as under that of the Messiah. The former of these is connected with the
latter—or perhaps more correctly speaking they are identical; the covenant
established in Christ's blood is the economy of the Spirit. The ministry of
reconciliation is the ministry of the Spirit. I do not mean to represent the
divine influence of the Holy Spirit, as confined to the Christian economy,
for since the beginning of time no soul has been converted or sanctified but
by his heavenly power. But the communications of it before the coming of
Christ were limited, partial, and scanty--compared with what they have been
since—they constituted not the 'shower'—but only the 'drops' which precede
it. Hence the language of the evangelist, "This He spoke of the Spirit, who
those who believe on him should receive, for the Holy Spirit was not yet
given, because Jesus was not yet glorified." This idea, that we are under
the Spirit's economy, should enlarge our expectations of rich communications
of his invaluable and essential blessing.
The view I have given of Divine sovereignty is not
intended, nor when rightly understood, is it calculated, to discourage
hope—but simply to teach dependence. While God reserves to himself
the right of bestowment, and acts upon his own rules of communication, he
warrants and invites the most comprehensive requests, and the largest
anticipations. Since he has promised to give the blessing in answer to the
prayer of faith, it would seem to be our own fault that we have it not in
more abounding measure. The very recollection of our privilege in being
placed under such an economy, might seem to be enough to call forth our
prayers and to awaken our expectations. Instead of being surprised that so
much of this Divine power accompanies our ministry in the most successful
periods of our history; we should be surprised that we receive so little of
it, and enquire after the obstructing cause. In a country like Egypt, where
rain seldom falls, a shower is the exception, and a dry atmosphere is the
general rule. But in our variable climate, a long drought is the rarity, and
the frequent shower is the common occurrence. The husbandman ploughs and
sows in this land, with his expectant eyes upon the heavens, and feels
disappointed if the fertilizing rain is withheld.
So should it be with us, in reference to the shower of
God's grace. We are not in the dry and arid atmosphere of the Levitical
economy—but enjoy the privilege of the dew-distilling, rain-dropping
dispensation of the Spirit; and with us the question should be, why we have
not more of this Divine influence, and what has provoked the Lord to
withhold from us the vivifying influences of his grace. Instead of being at
any time astonished that our ministry is so much blessed, we should enquire
why it is not always so. When we consider what is said, that God "wills not
the death of a sinner—but would rather that he should repent, and turn from
his wickedness and live," when we recollect what he has done for the
salvation of sinners; when we add to this, that the gospel is his own truth,
and preaching his own institution, we are sometimes ready to wonder that he
does not pour out that influence which is necessary to give effect to the
purposes of his own benevolence, and almost to enquire, "What does the Lord
now wait for?" In answer to this it may be replied, "He waits for the
earnest labors of his ministers, the faith of his church, and the believing
prayers of both."
It is quite perceptible that the necessity of Divine
influence is rather a dogma of faith, than a principle of practice, both
with ministers and their flocks. Did the people really believe it, were it
matter of inwrought conviction, and were there the least seriousness of
spirit in their religion, how much less dependence would there be upon
'men', how much less would there be said about talent, how much less homage
would be paid to genius and eloquence--and how much more looking up to 'God'
by intense and persevering supplication would there be! Recollecting that
God works by means, and by means adapted to promote his ends, there would be
no danger of sinking into an enthusiastic and irrational neglect of them.
But on the contrary there would be more constant and serious attendance upon
them. The knowledge that preaching, and especially earnest preaching, is the
Spirit's instrumentality, would lead men to seek that instrumentality, in
order that they might have that blessing.
How highly would it exalt the minister to consider him as
the Spirit's instrument, and how important would it make the sermon to
regard it as God's means to bless the soul! To view ministers and sermons
apart from the work of God is immeasurably to sink both; it is to cease to
view the preacher as an ambassador of Christ, and instead of it, to listen
to him only as a lecturer on religion. With what sacred awe and with what
fervent prayer would he be heard, by those who viewed him as the appointed
medium of that influence, which, if received, would illuminate, renew, and
sanctify their souls!
But if it be incumbent on the people to remember the
dependence of means upon the Divine blessing, how much more so is it the
duty of ministers? It is an article of our creed, it is often the subject of
our sermons, and it is acknowledged in our prayers. But after all, is our
conviction of "dependence upon the Spirit" so deep, practical, and constant,
as to prevent us from attempting anything in our own strength, and make us
to feel strong only in the Lord and in the power of his might? Do we conduct
the pursuits of our studies, as well as regulate the prayers of our closets,
under this conviction? Do we with child-like simplicity, and in the spirit
which we inculcate upon our hearers in reference to their personal
salvation, habitually give ourselves up to the guidance and blessing of this
Divine Agent? Do we look up for divine wisdom to guide us in the selection
of our texts, and the composition of our sermons? Do our eyes and our hearts
go up to heaven, as we think and write for our people? Do we go to our
pulpit in a praying frame, as well as in a preaching one; praying even while
we preach, for our people, as well as for ourselves? Do we thus clothe
ourselves with Omnipotence, and go forth as with the Lord ever with us? Do
we recollect that from all that crowd of immortal souls before us, we shall
gather nothing but human praise or censure, except the Lord be with us; that
not one dark mind will be illumined, not one hard heart softened, not one
inquiring soul directed, not one wounded spirit healed, not one uneasy
conscience appeased, unless God the Spirit does it?
Do we really want to accomplish those objects--or merely
to deliver a sermon that will please the people, and gratify our own vanity?
If the former, how entire, how confident, how believing, should be our sense
of dependence upon something far higher than the best and most appropriate
instrumentality! Such a feeling of dependence would cramp none of the
energies of our soul, would stunt none of our powers, quench none of our
fire, repress none of our intensity of manner. So far from it, we would
derive from it unspeakable advantage in addressing our hearers. A
seriousness, tenderness, and majesty, beyond what the greatest unassisted
talent could command, would pervade our discourses. A superhuman influence
would rest upon us. A Divine glory would irradiate us. And we would speak in
the power and demonstration of the Spirit!
"Possessed of this celestial unction, we would be under
no temptation to neglect a plain gospel, in quest of amusing speculations
and unprofitable novelties; the most ordinary topics would open themselves
with a freshness and interest, as though we had never considered them
before; and the things of the Spirit would display their inexhaustible
variety and depth. We shall pierce the invisible world, we shall look, so to
speak, into eternity, and present the very essence and core of religion,
while too many preachers, for lack of spiritual discernment, rest satisfied
with the surface and the shell. We shall not allow ourselves to throw one
grain of incense on the 'altar of vanity', and shall forget ourselves so
completely, as to convince our hearers we do so; and displacing everything
else from the attention, leave nothing to be felt or thought of—but the
majesty of truth, and the realities of eternity!" (Hall "The Discouragements
and Support of the Christian Ministry")
The preacher who cherishes such a frame of mind will
appear with a radiance not less dazzling perhaps than that of genius, and
far more sacred heavenly and divine; and when carried to his highest pitch
of earnestness and dependence upon God, he will seem almost to reach the
sublime symbol of the apocalypse, of the angel standing in the sun. "But
this kind goes not forth but by fasting and prayer." A deep, practical
conviction of the need of the Spirit, would make us men of prayer, would
send us to our closets, and keep us there! Here perhaps is the cause why
we have not more success in our ministry, and are not more frequently and
more heartily gladdened by the conversion of souls to God; we seek to be men
of the pulpit merely, and are not sufficiently men of the closet. It is a
mystery in God's moral government that he should make the communications of
his grace for the salvation of sinners dependent in any degree upon the
prayers of others; yet he does so, and we know it; and yet knowing it, how
little have we been affected by it, and stirred up to prayer on this
account! We have uttered our complaints of the fruitlessness of our ministry
long enough before one another. But, as Wilson says in his introduction to
the 'Reformed Pastor,' "One day spent in fasting and prayer to God, is worth
a thousand days of complaint and lamentation before men!"
The author of this work can assure his brethren that it
is not with any disposition to accuse them, and exalt or exculpate himself,
that he writes thus. He takes his full share of blame for his deficiency of
a spirit of fervent prayer, and his full share of humiliation on this
account. The activities of the age, which require us to be so much in
public, may furnish, if not an excuse--some mitigation of blame, for the too
little time spent in fervid private prayer. Devotion is damped by business.
Still even with this palliation, we are verily guilty, for we do not pray
as if we believed we were sent to save souls from eternal death, and that we
could not be successful in a single instance without the grace of God!
Who of us can read the diaries of such men as Doddridge, Brainerd, Payson,
and Martyn, and very many others, and not stand reproved for our lamentable
deficiency in the exercise of earnest prayer?
Perhaps in modern times there was never so much of social
prayer, and never less of private prayer. We introduce all our business
transactions with prayer—but too often in a business spirit, and with a sad
lack of sincerity, seriousness, and deep devotion; so that the very
frequency and lack of reverence with which we engage in such exercises of
devotion, tends to diminish the spirit of prayer. Nothing is more to be
dreaded than a depression of the spirit of devotion, and nothing more
intensely to be desired than its elevation. A praying ministry must be an
earnest one--and an earnest ministry a praying one!
Let us then feel ourselves called upon by all the
circumstances of the times to abound more and more in fervent supplications.
Let us, if we can in no other way command more time for prayer, take it from
study or from sleep. We have neither right nor reason to expect the Spirit,
if we do not ask for his gracious influence--for without him we can do
nothing. Let us take care lest the bustling activity, and the endless
multiplication of societies, should supplant, instead of calling forth, the
feeling of intense devotion. We never more needed prayer--we were
never more in danger of neglecting it. There is plausibility in the
excuse that we had better abridge the time of praying than the time of
acting. But it will be found in the end, that doings carried on at the
neglect of prayer, will end in confusion and vanity. Ministry in the cause
of godliness, however prevalent or energetic--if it be not maintained in a
feeling of dependence upon God--will be regarded by him as the 'image of
jealousy' in the temple. Our sermons are the power of man, or perhaps we
might say his weakness. But our prayers are in a modified sense, the power
of God.
Let us not slacken in preaching—but let us abound more in
prayer; let us not quench a ray of intellect—but let us add to it the warmth
of devotion; let us labor as if the salvation of souls depended upon our own
unaided energies--and then let us feel as the apostle did when he said,
"though I am nothing." The eternal destinies of our hearers hang not only
upon our sermons but upon our prayers; we carry out the purposes of our
mission, not only in the pulpit—but in the closet; and may never expect to
be successful ministers of the New Covenant—but by this two-fold importunity
in first beseeching sinners to be reconciled to God, and then beseeching God
to pour out his Spirit upon them—thus we honor his wisdom in the use of the
means he has appointed, and then his power by confessing our dependence upon
his grace.
Baxter concludes his "Reformed Pastor" with an expression
of his confidence in the usefulness of the book he had written, which it
would be unwarrantable and ridiculous vanity in me to adopt in reference to
mine, in any other way than that of hope and prayer. But in this spirit I
borrow the language of that great and holy man, and say, "I am now,
brethren, done with my advice, and leave you to the practice. Though the
proud receive it with scorn, and the selfish and slothful with distaste, or
even with indignation--I doubt not but God will use it, in despite of the
opposition of sin and Satan, to the awakening of many of his servants to
their duty, and to the promotion of a work of right reformation; and that
his blessing will accompany the present undertaking--for the saving of many
souls--for the peace of you who undertake and perform it--and for the
increase of the purity and unity of his churches. Amen."